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barley, baby carrots,

and a chicken all in chunks,

mushrooms, and a veg stock,

and some green peas and bell peppers,

don’t forget the onions and some cauliflower hunks,

brewing up a stew that’s fit for anti-vegan monks,

governors and non-contagious medicated lepers,

couriers, deliverers,

and good ole boy forklift shleppers,

metaphoric ferrets

and a brace of almond sliverers.

..

stew to eat

for a brew of folks.

musing’s sweet

if we’re free of yokes.

J and the Legal Heineken

Once upon a couple months ago I was working

And I was in a time crunch

And my co-worker Jalen

Sometimes known as J

Dropped what he was doing to help me

And I was grateful

And I asked him what his favorite beer was

And he said “Heineken”

And I told him

There was a Heineken in his future

But there’s a (completely reasonable) rule

Forbidding employees to bring alcohol

To the workplace

So I mulled it over

And got the notion

That the Heineken in J’s future

Would be in the form of a DRAWING

Of a Heineken

So I drew it

And J next to it

And it looked OK but not quite right

And the oinner voice that tells me what to do said

“Draw his hand holding up the bottle”

So I did

But the pencil’s eraser didn’t erase right

Smeared rather than erased

Being old and oxidized

So I said the hell with erasure

And that’s why the hand is a little ghostly

But J still liked the drawing

And gave me permission

To post it on social media

Like this.

..

He’s a good guy.

whew. woke up just in time. the evil overlords/had me. my cover was blown, my whereabouts known,/and this minute the bald guy with the cigarette holder,/an obvious admirer of the late dr. hunter s. thompson,/had a gun on me…

just woke up. lots of colors./we were playing hopscotch near piccadilly circus/when the ghost of shakespeare,/head shaven, smoking a virginia slim on a long ivory holder,/was showing me the cap gun i had owned as a child./he handed it to me,/and I removed the roll of caps, put the roll/on the sidewalk, and slammed/it with a hammer. at that exact moment…

wow, that was a doozy. i was disguising myself. shaved head, rouged cheeks, fishnet stockings on a garter belt./the only instructions from hq were “dress in drag and carry your walther ppk between the peaks of your falsies, in plain sight.”//i wonder, not for the first time, if i am being set up.

ugh. thank gog I woke up. damn, i need a cigarette. –hey, wait, i don’t smoke. maybe i’m not awake yet…

“Get busy livin, or get busy dyin.” Stephen King

for all intents and nervousness

agendas are not purposeless

though some have improprieties

to bring a bull moose to its sneeze

indicativity’s inactive

as sleazy actions are redactive

though elton john and kiki dee meant

well, disclosured per agreement

Their names dragged in their names now drop

along with cher and iggy pop

legitimizing stance anarchic

and Who knows what makes ringo starr tick

l’envoi

so many of our thumbs a-twiddle

not giving effs for sphinx nor riddle

redact, distract, enact, pretend

we still feel like we’re near

The End

whirrd

“The right word is the unexpected word.” Frederik Pohl, introducing The Best of Cordwainer Smith

three caffeines and i am wired/good to go no longer tired/let my wordsmith’s finger wield/this touch-sensitivish field

word be whirrd near-homophonic/aspirate that aitch atonic/ascertain a certain smuggish/air when jazzed-up coffee-muggish

tighten up those loosish ens/comically let’s be frenz¹/tragic cali mourn our bros²

we may see them

no one noes

..

¹Ron Frenz. “Ronald Wade ‘Ron’ Frenz (born February 1, 1960) is an American comics artist known for his work for Marvel Comics. He is well known for his 1980s work on The Amazing Spider-Man, particularly introducing the hero’s black costume, and later for his work on Spider-Girl and Thor…” Wikipedia

²Along with my nuclear family, I have lost brotherly cousins of the Householder clan who lived in California.

let’s pick a warning label

homicidal if exposed is succinct

the boy king asked Russia to find her e-mails

and his henchman says ‘kill them all’

..

transparent if scrutinized works too

boy king wants Greenland

which in a heartbreakingly few years

will become one of the last livable places

and he works tirelessly to make this planet less inhabitable, with the grinning help of the prince with the bone saw fetish, equally homicidal if exposed

but there’s not enough room on Greenland for former legal US residents and the Saudi Arabian royal family too

so he’s imposed a quota of 3000 deportations a day

to thin the herd before he herds the rest

to the last bit of green

..

boy king got in a little trouble for boinking a porn star

and then killing the story with 130 grand

so that he could become king

..

he is a real prince of a king

with his trading cards and other ikonography

a wannabe pope and gunslinger and superman too

and yet ask a follower and they thank God he is king

and add that the despicable Left

would destroy our country if we let them

..

something is rotten in non-Denmark, my friends

it is time to scour the Shire

Hurt Transitory

A shadow dot moves across the sun. The innermost planet, Mercury, is transiting. It is throwing its huge little shadow across us, two planets out.

Fallen Rome left us wisdom in her death throes: Sic [Thus] transit [it passes,] gloria [the glory] mundi [of the Earth].

¿Que pasa? ask my Hispanic friends. And one answer was my junior college newspaper, El Tiempo Pasando.

Children are wasting away in at least three global regions. Something is frightfully wrong with the way various influencers are conducting themselves, since this very moments there is so much abundance of foodstuffs that no one on Earth need go hungry.

Some of us hurt, and some of us want to hurt others of us. “That is the way of the world,” we hear. But the world is brave, and the world is new, and the way of the world is as it has never before been.

¿Que pasa?

It it up to us billions.

Today I sculpted a chess-piece perched bird, a pawn, the pawn that remembers Emily Dickinson’s description of Hope as “the thing with feathers.” And if my pawn of Hope makes her transition to the other end of the chessboard, she may transform,

Actualize,

And free us.

“Never understood that it ain’t no good/You shouldn’t/Let other people/Get your/Kicks for you…” Bob Dylan, “Like a Rolling Stone”

mayhem is wartime chaos

or a four-hundred-pound left guard after the ball snap

or a school of piranha disassembling a swimmer

..

contrariwise, mehhem is the “quiet desperation” henry david thoreau mentioned in walden

it is t s eliot’s j alfred prufrock asking “do i dare to eat a peach?”

it is gonna and not done

maybe and not yes

a mononucleosis of your soul…

and if you think of yourself as a “wage slave”

and/or sigh a lot

and/or get sucked in by endless random reels on ticketytok or instagratis or fuzzbook,

you may be in mehhem’s gentle deathgrip, my friend

..

my unsolicited and easily discarded advice is to make a pie chart of your activity and your passivity

doesn’t have to be fancy

or even finished–here’s mine:

and then be brave

change things up some

stop treating yourself like a child you are determined to spoil rotten

and when you find yourself backsliding, rise up and say “Enough of this Mehhem!!!”

or not

wotthehell

it’s only your life

..

Grateful acknowledgment to the late Harlan Ellison for the concept behind his groundbreaking The Glass Teat, written last century but still spot-on

v is for vicissitudes

and venom

vile

and vicious dudes

and vaults where wait ill-gotten gains

and vectored illness

vapored veins

..

but v is not for victory

not with this veiled vainglorious line

the varlets scheme predictably

to let the poor die on the vine

i. non-denial isle

i was talking to my good friend lyle/who was walking his chihuahua kyle/in the midafternoon/when an ICE-y hot goon/pepper-sprayed away my charming smile

after that my recollection’s misty/but i must’ve got a little fisty/what with ICE-man on the ground/and a wannabee hound/yapping that there were yet more fascisti

so we beat it to the subway tunnel/where the thug squad wasn’t apt to funnel/and we got to my place/and I washed off my face/but my left eye wept a salty runnel

manhattan is a ravaged isle/often wonderful and often vile/but the new mayor’s cool/and he’ll take us to school/to learn how to practice non-denial

ii. hot hand

ace of diamonds

ace of spades

sweet mariah’s mons

three queenly maids

iii. got it get it got it get it good

my mom like so many a scold on a tear

claimed if she told me once

she told me a thousand times. au contraire:

’twas only nineteen (said the dunce).